Insecure
by intellectualseeker
Summary: AU: Who knew that being a quidditch superstar can be so dangerous? That's the question she's asking herself. Follow the life of the daughter of France's minister of magic as she tries to survive, playing as starting seeker for France's National Team.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and the crew...

_A/N: Woke up today with the strangest idea... so I opened up my notebook and started writing.  
_

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**Insecure**

...

Chapter 1:

**"Stupid English"**

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Fleur Delacour turned the water temperature to its hottest as she stepped in the shower. She let out a deep sigh; her shoulders sagging, as the hot water started to relax her aching and strung up muscles. For a while she just stood there, letting the water cascade down her back as she replayed the day's events in her mind.

...

_Fleur gasps for air as she tries to catch her breath. She was hit by a bludger as she tried to disrupt the attacking formation of their opponents, to help her team. _

'_That'll leave a bruise' She thought as she felt her side to see if anything was broken. As she does this, she looked up at the scoreboard, England is up 450 – 320 against France. The English national team was known for their efficient and unstoppable chasers squad, composed of the three starting chasers from Holyhead Harpies: Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Individually, they are good, but together, they are unstoppable. _

_She was brought out of her musings at the sound of a whistle being blown. The English have scored once again much to the appreciation of the crowd. The Puddlemere United stadium was filled to capacity, with more than three-fourths of the audience wearing white and red, showing their support for the English home team._

_She looked at her dismayed and frustrated teammates and called for a timeout. She signaled the ref, who blew her whistle and Fleur flew towards the gathered French players in their team's mound. _

"_Franc! What the fuck are you doing?" One of the chasers yelled._

"_What am I doing? What are YOU doing?" The keeper yelled back. "You're not even playing defense!" He yelled at the team's chasers._

_The blaming and bickering have turned into a full blown yelling match when Fleur got there. "Franc! Jacque! Shut up!" She yelled, some of her veela aura bleeding out as anger and frustration started to get the better of her. Both men quickly shut up, as this angry goddess, took deep breaths, her breasts heaving._

_Fleur opened her eyes, as she's finally reigned in her temper, while both men quickly looked up to her face. She expelled a deep breath before speaking. "Now, I know we're down, but we for sure as hell are not out. Look! Look at those English celebrating like they've won!" She yelled, pointing at the team who are playing the crowd. "We can still win this. Franc, you are the best Keeper in France which means you are the best in the world. Jacque, Franc has a point, you are playing lazy –" Fleur put her hand up as the man was about to argue. "– don't try to prove me wrong here, prove it in the pitch." She turned to the rest of the team. "You guys are too focused on offense, when we should be focusing on defense. You all know, that they are the best offensive team in the world, so we can't play them at their game. From now on, we play OUR game! FRANCE'S game!" She yelled, and her team roared in response. "Now, Let's go!" She yelled pointing at the pitch and watched as her team flew out of the mound, game faces on each one of them._

_She took another deep breath and smiled at her coach sitting on the side. "Well done Fleur. I knew I was right choosing you as the team's captain."_

"_Merci, but wait until the end of this match. And tell me what you really think." The star seeker replied before she mounted her broom and dashed off towards the center of the stadium._

_...  
_

She finally opened her eyes and released a breath she didn't know she was holding. She quickly grabbed the shampoo and generously applied some to her silvery locks, and gently massaged her scalp. She then proceeded to wash herself with soap, wincing as she went over the big, purpling bruise on her side. _'I should put some healing salve on this.'_ She thought as she washed some mud and dirt away.

She stepped out the shower and wrapped herself in large, fluffy towel as she walked towards her locker. _'Magic would be faster, but nothing beats a hot shower after a long day.'_ She thought smiling as she started to put on clothes. She was brought out of her reverie when she felt a presence behind her.

Quick as lightning, her wand was out and she dropped into a dueling stance, as she rounded on her 'attacker' a curse at the tip of her tongue.

"Woah, Fleur! It's just me!" A surprised woman yelled, her hands up.

Recognition hit her, as she put her wand down. "I'm sorry Marie. You just spooked me." Fleur apologized to her teammate, Marie Boucher, France's Left chaser.

"It's okay. Coach just wants me to tell you that the press conference is in 10 minutes." The chaser said, who smiled before she left.

Fleur grabbed her wand casted a drying charm over herself. She then closed her eyes and focused on her hair. Her wet, damp hair slowly went back to its smooth and silky state. _'Perks of being a veela'_ she thought, a smirk on her face as she put on a pair of dark jeans and a simple white dress.

She walked out of the shower room, her white open-toed heels echoing in the empty corridor and walked straight to the conference room. She was surprised to see the room filled to the brim with reporters. Everyone in the room, stood up and started clapping as she walked in. She gave a polite smile before taking a seat at the front beside the team's coach, Paul Henri.

This started the grueling 2 hours of question and answer with the press, much to the annoyance of the part-veela. Everyone knows she hates the press and being in the spotlight, but her contract requires her to attend these things. Her hate of the press started couple of years back, as they sensationalized her break up with her ex-boyfriend, the former France's team captain, Pierre Renard.

The press also blamed her for France's loss and their captain's less than stellar performance at the Qualifying round against Ireland that year. "I was too distraught and heartbroken to focus on the match. All I can think of was how cold and an unforgiving bitch she was." Pierre told the press, with teary eyes, after the match. This made everyone forget the fact that Pierre cheated on her, and shifted their focus to the loss and their chances on taking the Quidditch World Cup that year.

"Last question." She said. She pointed at a man sitting quietly with his hand up. "You."

"Miss Delacour, How do you respond to Pierre Renards comment of 'They played the Brits, what's everyone so happy about? Come on, they're English.'?" The reporter asked, English based on his accent.

Fleur frowned before speaking. "The English national team is one of the best teams in the world. Their efficiency and team chemistry is comparable next to none. They are the runner-ups in the world cup for two consecutive years for a reason. We were lucky that we were able to rally back, thanks to the efforts of our keeper, Franc Fournier. He is the reason we won this game."

"Miss Delacour, Don't you think you're down playing your part too much in France's win in the Quidditch World Cup's quarterfinals tonight?" The now smiling reporter asked, happy with the respect Fleur is giving England. He pointed at a big enchanted mirror that kept replaying Fleur's winning catch.

_..._

_Fleur was weaving through players, the English seeker on her tail as they both chased after the snitch. The golf sized golden ball suddenly changed direction and flew straight at England's keeper, Oliver Wood. _

_Fleur grabbed the tip of her broom with her right hand and stuck her left arm out. This made drag allowing her to change direction as fast as possible. This maneuver, called the Heigl Maneuver, made by the legendary seeker, Reginald Heigl in the 70's, was dangerous in the speeds she was flying. If done wrong, the amount of strain it puts on your joints could dislocate your arm. Paul insisted for her to practice this move every day, allowing her to pull it off, much to the approval of the crowd. _

"_Delacour just successfully pulled off the Heigl Maneuver! She just left the English Seeker in her dust!" The disembodied voice of the announcer yelled. "She's flying right in front of the French's attacking formation…"_

_Fleur looked back and saw Jacque holding the quaffle and the rest of their chasers behind her. Fleur smirked as she hugged the broom tighter, allowing her to fly even faster. _

_Oliver Wood nervously eyed the blue, white and red missile flying right at him._ "_Beaters!" He yelled. The two English beaters nodded and smashed the two bludgers straight towards the French star seeker._

_Fleur saw the two projectiles in her peripheral, but her focus was solely at the snitch, hovering just behind the oblivious English keeper._

_Oliver smirked as the bludgers closed in on the beautiful seeker in a way that it's impossible for her to dodge them without changing her direction. However, much to his horror and the crowd's approval, Fleur grabbed the broom with one hand and performed a one-handed handstand allowing the two bludgers to barely miss her. _

_Now nothing is stopping her from crashing into him, or at least that's what it looks like for him. He instinctively put his hands up and braced himself for impact, but the impact never happened as Fleur suddenly shot straight up._

_Oliver barely had time to register France scoring a goal on him, before Fleur caught the snitch above him._

"_Delacour caught the snitch! Delacour caught the snitch! The score is 530 – 520! France won!" The announcer yelled._

_...  
_

"No. My part? Catching the snitch was the easiest part. It was the Chasers, the Beaters and the Keepers who kept the team afloat until I could do my job." She answered. "That's it for the questions." She said with finality before getting up, and waved to the flashing cameras as she exited the room.

Fleur took a deep breath, exhaustion finally catching up to her, as she leaned against the wall in the empty corridor. She slowly walked towards the team's locker room, which was now empty. She went to her closet, which had her broom and her dragon-hide, leather jacket hanging on a hook.

She donned on her jacket before taking out a pair of Rayban aviator sunglasses. She slung her broom over her right shoulder as she headed for the pitch. She smiled as she saw her coach flying lazily around the stadium. She quickly mounted her broom and flew beside her mentor. He greeted her with a smile, but he didn't say a word.

Paul was the first to break the congenial silence, "You were brilliant today Fleur."

"Merci Beacoup." She answered with a Dazzling smile.

"How are you holding up?" He asked her, concern evident in the aged man's voice.

She looked at the man flying beside her, his face looking older than his real age. He was hired as France's coach this year, after the former coach was fired, due to France's terrible seasons twice in a row. Paul Henri was France's captain when they took the cup and defended their title three years in a row, from 85' – 88'. He is considered a legend among France's quidditch circles.

The first thing he did as a coach was to cancel the former captain, and star seeker, Pierre Renard's contract and put Fleur in his position. The French people and fans of the star seeker received this with outrage and anger. They voiced their opinions, the most polite being, that even though Fleur is a budding star, Pierre is the franchise player of team. To this he replied, that Pierre is the reason for the dissonance in the team. "Even though Pierre Renard is an amazing and incredible player, his temper and ego gets in the way of the team's game." Paul told the press.

Fleur was brought out of her musings as Paul cleared his throat. She gave him an embarrassed smile before answering. "I'm alright. My bruises will be healed by tomorrow."

"That's good. We'll be playing the Ireland in the Semifinals a month from now, so I want you at your best for that. Practice in two days." He reminded her, and got a nod from his star seeker. "I'm really tired, and my wife is probably already wondering what's taking me so long." The man said as he stifled a yawn. "It's been a really long day."

"Oui, it has." She answered. She followed him towards the exit of the stadium and they both dismounted their brooms. "Say hello to Dianne for me." She said as she kissed both the aged man's cheeks.

"I will. Say hello to your dad and sister for me." Paul said as he released her from a fatherly hug.

"I will." Fleur said smiling sadly.

"Don't stay up too late." He said, before leaving.

Fleur waited until he rounded the corner before stuffing her aviators into her jacket and mounting her broom again. She put all her weight on her legs and kicked off hard, speeding off towards the sky. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing around her. She loved to fly, it's her escape from her rather, very hectic life.

She noticed that the lights of the stadium are now off, and that everything is now basked in the moon's light. She eased the broom towards the stands and she got off. She zipped her jacket up and sat down in one of the chairs, charmed to be both comfortable and warm. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence.

These moments of silence were rare for the French part-veela. She's always on the go, with the pressure of being a Quidditch Superstar and the daughter of France's Minister of Magic, her life is consisted of dignitary dinners, charity events and team practices.

Fleur is a strong person, so she was able to deal with everything. However, two years ago, her life got turned upside down with the passing away of her mother, Madame Apolline Delacour. This placed a massive strain on her family, as they each tried to cope with their loss. Her father worked day and night, as he immersed himself with the problems of the magical nation. The beautiful, young Gabrielle started to date guys who were much older than her, much to her sister's disapproval. She discovered her sister learning contraceptive spells and this led to a fight, which left both sisters in tears and made Gabrielle distant. Fleur tried to balance her Quidditch career while trying to keep her family from unraveling at the seams.

She then discovered Pierre's cheating affairs, that led to a huge fight and an epic break up, complete with aurors, broom chases and fireballs. The press had field day, and the scandal almost got the Minister booted, putting a wedge between her and Monsieur Delacour. Then, that same year, the French National team didn't make it through the Qualifying rounds and she was blamed for it. It truly was a series of unfortunate events, and she was in the middle of all of it.

The one bright spot amidst all of this was that she got to meet Paul Henri. Every member of the team received a personal trainer/coach, and Paul was hired as Fleur's. He was a legendary seeker in his prime and Fleur listened and absorbed everything he had to teach her. Paul worked her to the ground, but she persevered through his training regimen. People started to notice her elevated playing style and knew she was a superstar in the making. It was all thanks to him that she is where she's at. He was always there, to teach her when she needed it and support when things got hard.

She had teary eyes, but a big smile was on her face before she was snapped out of her reminiscing by a noise behind her.

"Hello?" She asked looking back into the darkness as she took out her wand. "Anyone there?" She waited for an answer but didn't receive any. She waved her wand and the time appeared in front of her. _'Wow, it's really late. I better get back.'_ She thought as she quickly mounted her broom and flew towards the exit of the stadium.

She quickly dismounted her broom and slung it over her shoulder as she exited the stadium. She slowly walked towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards placed around the stadium. You wouldn't want people to just start apparating in the stands; that's both chaotic and dangerous.

The French seeker was about to reach her destination when she saw a figure appear in front of her. It was dark so all she saw was the person's silhouette. She didn't have time to figure out who he was as her body started to move on instinct as a bright red bolt of light raced towards her. She dodged the spells as she took out her wand. She dropped her broom and started to fire spells back as she tried to close in on the edge of the wards.

Fleur saw another person appear beside the first man and immediately started shooting spells at her. She dodged a nasty looking orange curse and let another splash against her shield. She quickly rolled under three curses that hit the wall of the stadium, splashing against the wall's protective enchantments.

"Isn't there some kind of security around the stadium?" She asked as she fired a wide area blasting curse at her attackers to slow them down. "Stupid English." She muttered as she conjured a thick mist around her and transfigured two rocks into two tigers. She then compelled the two great cats to attack the two men as she ran towards the edge of the wards.

She heard two roars and a series of screams which made her smirk. _'I was Beauxbaton's Dueling champion for a reason.' _She thought as she backpedaled, watching for anyone coming out of the mist. When she realized that no one was going to come out she nodded and felt a slight tingle on her body as she crossed the anti-apparition ward. She was about to apparate, but her vision clouded as she felt the impact of a spell hitting her back.

She groggily came to as she felt her clothes being torn off her. She slowly opened her eyes and saw four men, two of which had claw marks on their faces, huddled over her.

"Bloody bitch and her tigers." One of them spat as he tore her jeans off her legs.

Fleur started to struggle but realized that her hands were bound and her legs frozen. The men looked at her panicked expression and laughed.

"Oh, so you're awake Miss Delacour." One of the men said. "Do you know how much galleons we lost because of your little stunt?"

Fleur looked around and saw that they were in some sort of a forest. She saw the tips of the Puddlemere stadium with its white and red flags sticking out from the tops of the trees.

'_We're not far from the stadium. If I screamed someone might hear me.'_ She thought. She quickly opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. This made the men laugh harder, as no noise came out of her mouth.

"It's the opposite of a sonorous charm Miss Delacour. No one's going to hear you." One of the clawed up men said as he made for her chest.

Having no other choice, Fleur released her aura, freezing the man from grabbing her breast. Her body became wrapped in a glowing aura, as the four men stared at her with glazed eyes._ 'Fuck, I can't speak.'_ Kicking herself mentally with the fact that she forgot about the voice charm. _'At least my veela aura will hold them off for a bit. I need to try to get out of here.'_

She slowly tried to crawl away, squirming against her binds and dragging her frozen legs. Nicks and cuts appeared on her soft, delicate skin as she crawled on the forest floor. Her energy was quickly leaving her as her aura started to become harder to keep up.

She was a couple of feet away from her attackers when her magic left her. Magically and physically exhausted, Fleur laid there, gasping for air. She saw the blank expressions leave the men, and they quickly looked around for her.

They spotted her squirming away, and they quickly grabbed her by her frozen legs and dragged her to the spot they were in before.

"We were going to be nice about this, but fuck it." One of the men said as he dropped his pants. He then roughly grabbed her exposed breasts while the other men laughed.

Tears started to fall from her eyes as the idea of her being raped by these pigs started to solidify in her mind. She futilely struggled as the man got on top of her. He felt the man lick her tears from her cheek as he positioned himself.

"I hope you enjoy this as much as I know I am." The man whispered.

Fleur closed her eyes and braced herself, the sound of men laughing and her heart pounding filled her ears, only to be silenced by a loud 'BANG' and the man slumped on top of her.

She quickly opened her eyes and saw a figure standing in the shadows, three green bolts flew from him, hitting the three surprised men around her, and they all fell lifeless in a series of thuds.

The figure walked away from the shadows towards her and she noticed a smaller figure walking beside him. She had time to register that the smaller figure was holding a smoking muggle weapon called a gun, before the figure levitated the man on top of her and threw him to the side. He looked down at her and asked, "Miss Delacour, are you okay?"

Fleur looked down at her body and realized she was covered in blood, but otherwise she was okay. She nodded to him as he unbound her wrists and unfroze her legs. She quickly got up, hugged the person and started to sob.

The man realized that no noise was coming out of her so he undid the charm on her voice.

"– you. Thank you. Thank you." Escaped from her lips as she cried on his chest.

Fleur felt a warm, fluffy blanket wrap around her, covering her entire body and she remembered that she was naked. The man casted a warming charm around her and led her through the forest, followed by the small creature. They silently made their way to a clearing; only the occasional sob escaping her lips, was the noise made. They stopped walking, and with the help of the moon illuminating the place, she realized they were at the spot where those men attacked her – beside the stadium.

The man took out his wand once again, and Fleur instinctively took a step back. The man noticed this and quickly explained. "Don't be scared Miss Delacour. I'm just going to summon your wand and broom." He said. "Accio Miss Delacour's firebolt and wand."

The two things zoomed towards him and he deftly caught both of them. He handed her wand to her, and he gave the little creature the broom, that's when she realized that the little creature holding a gun was a house elf, wearing a suit with 'P-BAW' written on top of the breast pocket.

He knelt on one knee, and asked, "Dobby, can you hold on to this for me?" and received a nod from the elf, who put the gun away from his jacket and grabbed the broom.

Fleur watched the man with jet black, unruly hair give instructions to the little elf. He was wearing a pair of black slacks, black shoes, a white shirt and a black skinny tie, all covered by blood from when she hugged him. He was also wearing a pair of black, thick framed glasses; behind them were the greenest eyes she has ever seen.

He straightened himself and turned towards her as the elf popped away. "I'm sorry Miss Delacour. We should've been here to help you earlier." He apologized to the French witch with tear stains on her cheeks. "Did… did they… rape you?"

Fresh tears fell from Fleur's eyes, but she shook her head. "They… only got as far as touching me. Until you… you came along and saved me." She sobbed.

The man nodded grimly and walked up to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and smiled sadly. "That's good…" He whispered. "Come. Let's take you home."

He pulled her body against his, wrapped his arm around her and was about to apparate both of them away, but she stopped him. "Wait, who are you?"

He smiled, "You're coach, Monsieur Henri, hired me. Starting tomorrow, I'm to be your bodyguard." He answered.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"My name's Harry Potter from the P-B Ass Watchers." He replied. "And as Sirius would say," He paused as he looked down over her shoulders while pulling the blanket tight around her waist. "Don't worry, we've got your ass covered." he said with a grin before they disappeared with a loud 'CRACK'.

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_A/N: What do you think? Leave your reviews._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Not yet that is, but soon... you'll see.

_A/N: Okay this is the 2nd chapter redone. As some people pointed out, the 1st version of this chapter was obviously written as a stress reliever and wasn't very well... thought out. LOL. Well this is what the actual chapter would've been if I was thinking much clearer on that day. I think. LMAO! So once again, here's the 2nd installment of 'Insecure'. Enjoy and Happy Holidays! =)_

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**Insecure**

...

Chapter 2:

**"Bad Day"**

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**

After a sleepless night, an exhausted Fleur greeted the man sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, stacked with papers that were organizing themselves. "Hello papa."

"Hello ma cherie." The man greeted back without looking up from document he was signing.

She felt awkward talking to her father because she feels like a little child every time. "Last night, after the game against England –"

"Oh yes, that reminds me. You need to stop antagonizing the press and going against everything Pierre says." The French minister cut her off.

"What? I was just telling the truth!" She retorted and shook her head. "Anyways, Papa I need to tell you something."

"What is it? Be quick because I'm expecting a floo call from the Chinese minister of magic." He replied finally putting down the document he was reading.

Fleur nodded, "Last night, after the game, I was attacked a-and I was almost... r-raped." She forced out, as the flashback of last night played in her mind. Tears started to fall out of her eyes as she stood there in her father's office.

"Attacked? By whom?" He demanded. "Almost raped?"

"Oui, if it wasn't for someone showing up and saving me... I would've been..." She sobbed.

"So you didn't get raped?" Her father asked and sighed in relief as her eldest daughter shook her head, her silvery locks flailing from side to side. "Thank god..."

She wiped her tears and whispered, "I was so scared –", but her father cut her off.

"Nothing happened to you so it's fine. I need you to keep this to yourself. I can't have another scandal coming from you. Election is in a couple of months and I can't have you messing it up for me." He said.

Fleur was gobsmacked, as her father proceeded to lecture her about the importance for someone in his position to have a good image and reputation.

"– Gabrielle is bad enough. I don't need you adding to my problems." He finished.

"I can't believe this! I can't believe that you're more worried about how you look like to the public than your daughter's safety!" She yelled, as angry tears fell down her cheeks.

"Fleur –" Monsieur Delacour tried to explain.

"Non! I've had enough of this! Ever since maman –" Fleur was cut off as the fireplace burned green before a disembodied voice called out. "Gao Xing Szeto. Minister of Magic of the People's Republic of China."

"I accept." The French minister said and the floating head of the Chinese minister appeared in the green flames.

"Daniel, it seems like you are busy at the moment." The man said with a thick accent, as he looked at Fleur.

"No, no Gao, we are finished here." Daniel Delacour replied, looking at her daughter pointedly.

Fleur angrily wiped the tears on her face and roughly opened the door before going out and slamming the door shut. She leaned against the ornate door, breathing hard as angry tears continued to spill from her eyes. She was surprised when someone cleared their throat. She quickly looked around and saw the man who saved her last night, standing awkwardly in the carpeted hallway.

"Are you alright Miss Delacour?" He asked, scratching his head.

Fleur closed her eyes, her eyebrows knitting, and concentrated. Her face quickly went back to its perfect self again, no puffy teary eyes, no tear stained cheeks and no red nose.

"Oui, I'm fine." She replied as she quickly stood up and straightened her robe. "What are you doing here?"

"Ummm... as your bodyguard, shouldn't I be wherever you are?" He answered.

"I mean how did you know where I was?" She asked, annoyed as she walked towards the elevator.

Harry followed her, "Everyone knows you are the French minister's daughter... and I just asked her?" He replied, pointing at the witch sitting behind a desk with a small stack of papers, near the elevator.

"Hey cutie!" The witch wearing a tight, black blouse, hair held up by two pencils, said as they approached her desk. "Oh, It seems you found her."

"Yes." Harry replied. "Thank you!" He called out as he saw Fleur getting in the elevator and quickly followed her in.

The French Seeker glared at her father's secretary eyeing her bodyguard who jogging towards her, appreciatively, before the elevator doors closed and started to move.

She sighed, and looked at the man wearing the same thing from last night, minus the blood, and quickly looked away when he smiled at her. Memories of last night flooded her mind every time she looked at him. Her emotions cycled through shame, anger then sadness as she remembered the traumatic experience.

The French ministry had 187 floors, the minister's office being at the top. The two sole occupants of the elevator, Fleur, who was standing in front of the buttons and watching the numbers flash with each floor, and Harry, who was standing on the opposite side of the elevator, felt the tension slowly build up as the elevator went down.

"And I thought going up there was long..." He joked, trying to relieve the tension, which Fleur responded to with a glare. "Look, I know you're mad at your father, but I –"

"So you were eavesdropping on us?" She turned towards him, her tone cold.

"Yes. No! I mean I didn't mean to." He quickly explained. "Shit."

"Yes. Shit." She repeated as she turned back, glaring at his reflection on the chromed walls.

She knows she shouldn't be mad at him, heck she should be thankful. 'How can I hate a person who helped me, so quickly?' She asked herself. She knew the answer as soon as she asked the question. This man has seen her in her weakest moments. Everyone compliments her on her strong character and she is proud of that, but every time she sees him, she's reminded of how weak she was last night, and how weak she is in front of her father.

'_My Father... I hate him.' _She thought angrily as a single stubborn tear fell from her eyes. _'I hate what he's become.' _She swiped the single tear quickly as the elevator stopped.

"First Floor. Ministère de Magie" The elevator announced as the doors opened. Fleur quickly stepped out, a sob escaping her lips and rushed out the lobby.

Harry caught up with her at the steps in front of the French Ministry building. He grabbed her by her wrist and turned her around. "Miss Delacour –"

"Look!" She cut him off as she angrily shook his grip off her wrist. "Thank you... for your help last night... and I know Paul hired you, but your services are not needed." She said as she wiped the tears off her cheeks. "Keep the money. Just – Just stay away from me!" She yelled as she turned and started running down the stairs.

Again he caught her by her wrist, stopping her before he pulled her against him into a hug. "Look, I know you're mad. You're mad about those bastards, about your father... heck you're mad at me. But I can't just let you go." He said softly, letting her body relax against him. "What if something happens to you again?" He asked, and he instantly knew he asked the wrong question as he felt her tense up.

That rhetorical question infuriated the beautiful seeker. She pushed him off her, his foot catching on a step and he fell on his ass, while passersby watched and pointed at them. "Nothing! Nothing is going to happen to me again!" She yelled, her face red in anger. "I'm not some little girl that needs to be protected anymore!" She shouted, her frustrations and aura bubbling out. "My entire life I was alone. I've faced the world by myself, and I'm a stronger person because of it. Last night, I was caught off guard, but that will never – EVER happen again." The part-veela said, her voice steely with determination.

"Miss Dela –" He tried to say something, but she didn't want to hear it.

"I want you to stay away from me or I'm going to cause a scene and get you arrested, my father be damned." She warned him. "I can fucking take care of myself." She said harshly. "Goodbye Monsieur Potter." She said.

"Wait –" He tried to stop her, but she already disappeared. "Well... at least she didn't splinch herself." He sighed, as he stood up and dusted himself. He looked around at the people looking and pointing at him, before apparating away.

...

Harry opened the door to Sirius' flat, which also functions as their security agency's office. He closed his eyes as he felt the tingle of the protection wards washing over him as he passed through them. However, as soon as he opened his eyes...

"What the fuck?" He yelled. "Sirius! Do you have to do this every time?"

"Harry!" Sirius Black, the co-owner of P-B Ass Watchers, yelled in surprise, quickly getting up and ungracefully dumping a naked witch, in a painful heap behind his desk. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he started to quickly put clothes on.

"What am I doing here?" He asked. "I think the real question is what are YOU doing here?"

"Well we were having a bit of fun, that is, until you came along." The witch answered as she stood up, looking for her robes.

"Will you put on some clothes please?" Harry said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The witch stopped buttoning her shirt, and eyed the young wizard down. She slowly sauntered towards him, her hips moving enticingly, showing off her nice naked ass. "You're pretty cute. You want to have a go with a sexy, older, experienced witch?" She whispered in his ear, as she rubbed his shoulders.

"Sorry, you're not my type." He replied, without even batting an eyelid.

This made Sirius laugh while the witch stepped back, her expression shocked, as if she was just slapped. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The raven haired wizard said as he started tidying his desk. "There's just something about large foreheads that turn me off." He said nonchalantly while he stacked some folders, oblivious to the woman's slacked jaw and red face.

Outraged, she was about to go on a tirade before a fully dressed Sirius interrupted her. "Wow! You DO have a huge forehead... but It's okay though, I think you're large breasts compensates for it."

"Fucking assholes!" She spat as she quickly grabbed all her clothes.

"Call me." Sirius said, making a phone sign with his hand.

"Fuck you!"_** 'CRACK'**_.

"I hope she didn't splinch herself." Harry said, making Sirius fall on the floor, rolling with laughter.

"Did you see her face? Oh that was priceless!" The man on the floor said, dying.

Harry put away some folders in filing cabinet while watching his godfather's antics in the corner of his eye with amusement. "Dobby." He called out. "Can you please help us clean the office? The old dog over there somehow manages to ruin the place every time I leave him alone." Harry told the elf, who appeared in the middle of their office.

"Yes master Harry." The little elf replied, and got to work.

The trio proceeded to clean the P-B Ass watcher's office, while Harry recounted what happened last night and this morning to his godfather.

"Poor girl..." The old marauder said sadly before quickly smiling. "What did she look like naked?"

"Seriously?" Harry asked his godfather, astonished. "I just told you how she almost got raped, her father not caring and how she just told me off this morning. And the first thing you ask is how she looked like naked?"

"Well..." Sirius said, scratching his chin, before nodding. "Yeah." Seeing his godson's face he quickly explained, "Well you saved her so she didn't get raped right? And there's a lot more worse things that can happen than your father being an uncaring ass. And you're bollocks when it comes to women so her telling you off is no big deal." He ticked off and received a scoff. "Come on! When do you ever get to see the mind-blowingly hot quidditch superstar, Fleur Delacour, naked? I mean wasn't that the reason why the entire male population of the world hated Pierre?"

"You're a real dog Sirius." Harry said, shaking his head. He then threw a pen lying on his desk at his now transformed godfather. The grim deftly caught the flying writing utensil in his mouth before transforming back to human, the pen still in his mouth.

"So?" He asked. "How did she look?"

The raven-haired wizard sighed. "Whatever you think she looks like naked?" He said, pausing as his godfather nodded eagerly. "She's a hundred times hotter." He finished.

Sirius stared at his godson, his jaw slacked, before suddenly running off into his room, which confused Harry until he came back with a heavy looking basin.

"Memory. In. The. Pensive. Now!" He commanded.

"No." Harry replied, taking out a folder from his desk. "This is the Delacour file. We need to go and meet with the coach to talk about her."

"Come on Harry. Just a peek." The marauder doing his best puppy dog look, whined. "Please!" Seeing his godson reading over the file, not even listening to him, he stomped towards his desk and angrily sat down. "Fine! Don't share with the man who took care of you."

"Oh grow up will you?" Harry said exasperatedly. "I'm going to floo Monsieur Henri."

...

Fleur Delacour panted as she wiped the sweat dripping from her forehead, unknowingly smudging some dirt on her beautiful face.

"Again!" She growled out as she kicked off the ground and took to the sky above the French National Team's training ground.

"No Fleur. You're going to hurt yourself. You've been at it the whole day." Alize Lee, France's National Team's right chaser, said.

"No, I can still go on." The beautiful seeker argued.

Alize sighed. "I don't know what is vexing you, but this isn't a healthy way of dealing with it. You'll end up injuring yourself." She said as she canceled the charm on the machine that shoots golf sized golden balls in the air.

"Damn it Alize!" Fleur growled in frustration. She then proceeded to close her eyes and take deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm just stressed. That's all."

"It's okay Fleur. I understand." Alize replied smiling. She then walked up to the part veela and slung her arm over her shoulders. "With all the shit you deal with, I'm surprised you don't have these moments more." She said as she walked with her teammate to the team's change room.

...

"Once again, I'm very thankful for what you did for Fleur last night." Paul Henri, France's National Quidditch team's coach said as he looked over the training field from his office.

"It was nothing Monsieur Henri." The raven haired boy replied.

"Call me Paul si'l vous plait Monsieur Potter." The older man requested, looking back to the two men sitting in his office.

"Only if you call me Harry." He countered, making the man laugh.

"So Harry, before we finalize the contract, care to tell me a little bit of history of your company?"

"Certainly Paul. P-B Ass Watchers was founded by my godfather, Sirius Black -" He said, introducing Sirius who was sitting beside him. "- and myself, Harry Potter, three years ago, right after I graduated from Hogwarts."

"Hello." Sirius greeted, to which he received a polite nod.

"It started out as a small protection business with myself as the sole operative. And three years later, it grew, well not really, to a still small protection business, but has now three operatives. Sirius, myself and Dobby." He said, before a house elf, wearing a suit_** 'POP'**_d into the room.

"Hellos!" Dobby greeted enthusiastically.

This made the Quidditch coach laugh. "One of your employees is a house elf?" Paul asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a well trained operative who specializes in muggle firearms." Sirius answered, to which Dobby puffed his chest up.

Paul Henri let out a hearty laugh as he watched their antics. "I've heard great reviews from your short list of clientele." He said. "One of them being my good friend Mrs. Wood, Oliver Wood's mother."

"Really? Mrs. Wood is your friend?" Sirius asked. "She was really fun to work for."

"Yes, yes. Mrs. Wood was really nice to Dobby." The house elf added while nodding his head ardently, making his large ears flap.

"Yes. She's a great lady." Paul agreed. "Anyways, how do you plan on doing this?"

"Well, she told me off this morning." The young wizard said, smiling and scratching the back of his neck. "She told me to stay away from her or she'll get me arrested."

The French coach started laughing. "I guess she doesn't like the idea of being protected." He said. "She's the most independent person I know."

"We can protect her discretely." Sirius quipped. "Harry will sta- I mean, watch over her surreptitiously, and only step in when she looks like she won't be able to handle the situation..."

...

Fleur Delacour, Marie Boucher and Alize Lee were sitting in a quaint little cafe located in the magical part of Paris, much to delight of the cafe's patrons. The three sat down tiredly after everyone in the shop asked for autographs and pictures.

"So Fleur, what's got you so worked up?" Marie asked as she pulled a pin from her hair, letting her brunette hair fall down her back.

"It's just... last night..." And so the beautiful seeker proceeded to tell her teammates what had happened last night and this morning. The two chasers then proceeded to comfort their distraught friend and teammate.

"That's rough... You've got terrible luck Fleur. All the bad things always happen to you... Oh and you're dad's an asshole. No offense." Alize said.

"Oui. I agree." The other chaser said, before smirking. "But this bodyguard of yours, how does he look?"

"What?" Fleur asked incredulously.

"Hey, I'm just curious." Marie argued, while Alize agreed.

"What do you mean?" The part veela asked.

"Well you know... He shows up and saves you, and then he tries to comfort you after a row with your dad." Alize said as she ticked off her points with her fingers. "He's like your chevalier."

"Chevalier?" Fleur whispered, frowning. She thought about her life and realized that last night was the first time she'd ever been saved by someone. Not to mention, this morning was also the first time a person outside her family tried to comfort her after a fight with her dad. "Not even Pierre..." She mused out loud only to be interrupted by her friends clearing their throats.

"Well? Are you going to tell us how he looks?" Marie asked.

Fleur was about to answer but was interrupted by a loud _**'CRACK'**_, followed by a "Fleur! Baby! How have you been?"

The veela quickly rounded to a tall, lanky, red head who was wearing expensive robes and holding a bouquet of roses. "What are you doing here?" She demanded.

"I came here to see you babe."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Calling you what babe?"

"That!" She yelled. "I'm not your babe and I never will be!"

Alize saw everyone in the cafe watching them and tried to tell her friend. "Fleur-"

"That's it you bitch!" The red head yelled, shocking everyone in the cafe. "Do you know how many girls would give up everything just so I'd look them?" He asked. "And here I am, chasing after you! I've been trying to ask you out ever since Pierre left you! What the fuck do you want?"

"Not you, obviously." Alize muttered, but was heard by everyone in the silent cafe.

"Okay, who the fuck is talking to you?" The seething red head asked.

"Hey! Don't you dare talk to my friends like that!" Fleur yelled as she stepped up right in front of the man's face.

The man's face softened as he looked down at her. He went to touch her face saying, "Okay, I'm sorry Fleur-"

"Just get out of here." She said, interrupting the man's apology, while she pulled her face away from the man's touch. She then turned around and started walking back to her friends, but was stopped by the red head's hand on her shoulder.

"C'mon Fleur." The man said sneering. "I bet you I can make you feel better than Pierre-"

**_'SLAP'_**

Everyone gasped, while a red mark started to show on the man's cheek.

"Fuck. you." She growled out as she quickly walked past the stunned man, heading for the shop's door.

Fleur was about to grab the door handle when she heard Marie yell, "Watch out!" Turning around, she saw an angry yellow spell flying towards her. She didn't have time to pull out her wand, let alone dodge, so she braced herself for the inevitable impact of the spell.

However, the impact never came as the yellow bolt, splashed against a translucent shield which appeared out of nowhere. She was snapped out of her trance by a loud crash and noticed that her red headed attacker was now lying on the floor, on top of a broken table.

"Are you alright Miss Delacour?" A voice asked as a familiar looking person shimmered in existence in the middle of the room.

"H-Harry?" Fleur asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"My job." He answered, before walking up to the struggling man on the floor, his gaze ice cold.

...

Wiping the blood that was dripping from his nose, the man glared at the black haired person, wearing a white shirt, black tie and black slacks, who was walking up to him. "How dare you hit me! Do you know who I am?" He yelled as he tried to get up from the cafe floor, but was stopped by the sound of a gun cocking beside his head.

Looking at the corner of his eye, he was shocked to see a house elf, wearing a suit with the logo 'P-BAW' embroidered on the breast pocket, holding a pistol to his temple._ 'What the fuck?' _He thought, before his attention was snapped back to the raven haired man who he started talking to him.

"Tall and Lanky? Red hair? Freckles? and the biggest asshole in the world?" The raven haired man listed sarcastically as he loosened his black skinny tie. "I know exactly who you are Ron Weasley. The-boy-who-lived."

* * *

_A/N: Well what do you think? Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and the crew...

_A/N: My bad for the slow updates guys. I've been terribly busy... here you go though! ENJOY!  
_

* * *

**Insecure**

...

Chapter 3:

**"Poster Boy"**

* * *

A platinum blond girl was taking deep breaths as she wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead. She slowly lowered her body against her broom's handle, hugging it as she got ready to fly, high above France's National Quidditch team's practice grounds.

"I have to be faster this time." She whispered to herself before looking at her coach and giving him the slightest of nods.

'_BANG' _

Fleur Delacour shot out of the starting point of the obstacle course designed by her coach, Paul Henri, as part of her training for the upcoming semi-finals match. The course was marked by several hoops through which she had to go through, one by one, in a consecutive pattern while being blocked by floating, human-sized, wooden obstacles and being hunted down by a dozen cursed bludgers. The objective was to go through the course as fast as she could to catch a small golden ball that was shot into the sky and is now falling to the ground at the other side of the pitch.

After passing through the first hoop, she quickly had to barrel roll to dodge a bludger that almost took out her head. Closing her eyes as one of the wooden obstacles exploded into splinters when the ball that missed her smashed into it, she quickly rolled right to dodge the shower of wooden debris.

Coming in wide to take a sharp corner through the second hoop, she noticed three more bludgers joining the hunt. She made her turn even tighter and heard a loud _'CLANG'_ as one of the balls chasing her smashed into the side of the hoop and got stuck.

"Eleven more." She whispered as she weaved passed some obstacles, before ducking and rolling as four more bludgers narrowly missed her.

Nimbly, she quickly made her way towards the third hoop followed by the metal orbs of death that were showering the pitch with splinters in their wake.

However, as soon as she made it passed the third hoop, the four remaining bludgers came down on her. Having no room to roll, she pushed off her broom and twisted her body in the air, narrowly missing being smashed by the balls by the skin of her teeth.

She glanced behind her and saw the four balls collide into each other, the force fusing the balls together, and the combined weight overloading the charms on the balls. Fleur grabbed the falling broom in the air beside her and shoved it between her legs, mounting it quickly before shooting off towards the fourth and last hoop as the four balls that were stuck together fell to the ground like a cluster of grapes.

Hearing the sound of destruction behind her that the remaining bludgers were making, get closer and closer, she pushed her broom even faster. However, the destructive iron balls were gaining on her. When she could literally feel them right behind her, she suddenly pushed her broom down. Hugging the smooth wooden handle against her body, she started to get tunnel vision, as she raced towards the ground.

"I need to time this right." She whispered, squinting as the air rushed in her eyes.

...

"What is she doing?" Paul asked himself, his stop watch dangling from his wrist, as he watched his star seeker plummet to the ground.

"She's cutting it close with the distance she needs to pull out of that dive." One of the assistant coaches said.

"Actually she just passed it." Another coach muttered from behind. "Get the medical team ready!"

Paul just sighed and shook his head. _'C'mon Fleur.'_ He thought. _'What are you trying to do?'_

...

Fleur took a quick glance behind her and turned back towards the ground. _'1… 2… 3. Now!'_ She yelled in her head, as she pulled the broom up to stop her rapid descent.

...

Everyone held their breaths as they watched the French veela try and stop herself from running into the ground.

"C'mon Fleur!" A voice from the stands yelled.

Everyone turned towards the young man with messy, jet-black hair, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, a black skinny tie and black slacks, standing up in the stands.

"Yeah! That's it!" He yelled again, making everyone's heads snap back towards the pitch.

...

Some twigs started to fall off the broom as the stress of trying to stop, started to make the broom vibrate. The grassy ground of the pitch was quickly getting closer and her descent was still a little fast.

"Merde, my broom's going break with this strain." The part veela whispered.

She took a quick glance back towards the balls, which promised concussions and pain, racing towards her and threw her broom away. As soon as the broom lost contact with its rider, the charms on it cancelled and the air resistance slowed its fall.

However, the French seeker's body mass didn't allow for air resistance to help her – not that she's fat by any stretch of the word; she's just too close to the ground for any air resistance to affect her fall and had to quickly brace her legs for the landing. She winced as she landed on the grass hard and rolled forward, using her momentum to not only to lessen the strain on her legs, but to also dodge the incoming iron projectiles.

'_THUD'_

'_THUD'_

'_THUD'_

She quickly got to her feet and started sprinting, as a series of loud thuds followed her – the heavy iron balls were all smashing into the ground, making craters on the pitch. However, the last ball had enough time to alter its course in the air and was now heading towards the running veela's head.

She more so felt the incoming bludger rather than saw it, before she looked up to her falling broom and thought, _'Can I make it?'._

She heard the rushing air just behind her head before she lunged for her broom. As soon as her hand grabbed the shaft, the charms in the broom activated and it shot forward, pulling the platinum blond with it.

'_THUD'_

She looked at the crater, the bludger she barely dodged, created and shook her head. 'I swear they're trying to kill me.' She thought before swinging herself around and mounting her broom. She deftly made it to the last hoop and raced towards the falling, tiny, golden ball, catching it barely an inch above the ground.

...

"Yes!" The messy haired young man yelled.

'_Click'_

Paul released the breath he was holding as he clicked his timer to a stop. He looked at the time and chuckled.

"Crazy girl…" He whispered as he headed towards his now panting seeker lying on the grass.

"How was my time this time?" Fleur asked.

"Pretty good." Paul Henri responded as he landed beside her.

"Damn it!" Fleur scrunched up her nose cutely and swore before brushing her golden locks that were sticking on her sweaty forehead back. "Let's go again." She said, struggling to get up.

"No. That's enough for today." The coach said helping her straighten up. "You've been at it for six hours."

"But I want to hear you say that my time is excellent." She whined. "Pretty good means it's not good enough."

"Be that as it may, getting you injured before the semi-finals is counterproductive." He said before his look became stern. "And with the way that you are going, you WILL get injured." The middle-aged man chided the beautiful young veela that he came to think of as the daughter he never had.

"Fine." She huffed.

"We still have two more weeks of training camp before the Irish match. Three more days of this and you'll be begging for me to stop." The coach said, picking up her broomstick.

"Me? Beg you to stop?" She said as a devilish smirk came to her face. "I'm part veela you know. So if anything I'll be begging you to give it to me more." She breathed out huskily, relaxing her tight control on her pull and letting it manifest.

The man froze beside her as he started to turn red, making the eldest Delacour daughter laugh. He quickly shook himself from the stupor.

"Fleur! Don't do that! You're going to give me a heart attack!" The man yelled angrily at the laughing girl. "Get out of here! You still have a press conference to do!" He commanded.

"I'm going! I'm going!" She replied, laughter still evident in her voice, to the still blushing man.

Paul shook his head as she watched the retreating form of his star seeker. _'She's going to be the death of me…'_ He thought with a fatherly smile.

"Equipment manager! Get her broom retwigged, polished and in tip-top form in a day!" He barked out.

...

"You flew well today." The young man from the stands greeted Fleur at the entrance of the field.

"It wasn't good enough." She deadpanned and walk passed him.

Harry stood there watching her walk briskly towards change rooms . "How can someone so beautiful be such a bit-"

...

"-itch?"

Fleur smirked as she caught the end of her 'bodyguard's' comment before the doors in the change room closed.

'_Good.'_ She thought as she peeled off her drenched practice uniform off her unblemished body, grabbed her wand and quickly stepped into one of the showers.

"Mmmmnnnnnn." She moaned as the scalding hot water did wonders for her sore muscles.

She stood there; just letting the hot water beat her back as she felt her tense muscles start to relax. She then placed her wand on a stand and proceeded to actually wash herself. Massaging her scalp with shampoo, she thought about the press conference she had to go to.

"I hate the press." She breathed out.

Taking a longer shower than she normally does, she leaned against the shower wall and tried to go through relaxation exercises when she felt the oncoming headache this press conference is going to bring.

"This has been one of the longest weeks of my life." She sighed, before straightening up and rinsing the soap and shampoo off of her body. She then proceeded to quickly drying herself and getting dressed.

...

"Ms. Delacour!"

"Ms. Delacour!"

"Oui?" Fleur asked, pointing at one of the reporters who packed themselves in the team's press room that was filled to the brim.

"We've received reports that according to Mr. Weasley, more famously known as the-boy-who-lived, He was attacked in French soil by one of your associates. Is this true?" The reporter asked.

"My 'Associate' was only protecting me." She responded.

"So, Mr. Weasley WAS indeed attacked then?" The reporter more stated than asked as she furiously scribbled on her pad.

"No – wait. It's not like that." Fleur tried to interject, but the room was already abuzz with murmurs, whispers and the scratching of pen on paper after the revelation.

"According to our sources in Britain, Mr. Weasley said 'the bastard attacked me out jealousy. He was jealous of me and my relationship with Ms. Delacour.' Is this true?" Another reporter asked.

"Harry wasn't jealous –"

"So you're NOT denying that you DO have a relationship with the-boy-who-lived?"

"No I don't –"

"Okay."

"No – wait!"

"After Pierre, you've set your eyes on another big catch, eh Miss Delacour?"

"Mr. Weasley and I don't –"

"Aren't you worried about being distracted by this budding romance with dear Mr. Weasley from focusing on the upcoming semi-finals and, if the scouting reports are right, the finals?"

"I'm not –"

"Who's this associate of yours named Harry?"

Fleur was close to tears and her face red, as the frustration inside her was steadily growing. Her features started to get more and more avian and her hands behind the table started glowing, as the oblivious reporters kept yelling questions at her.

Paul Henri who was standing on the side of the room saw the impending explosion of the part veela's anger and quickly made it to the platform.

"Enough!" He yelled silencing everyone. "This press conference is over! Au revoir." He barked out and quickly dragged his shaking, angry star seeker outside of the room amidst pandemonium and countless flashes of wizarding cameras.

...

Harry smiled as soon as the doors opened, oblivious to the volatile situation he's in.

"How –" He couldn't finish his question, having to hastily erect a glowing shield in front of him as a fireball splashed against it. "What the hell?" He asked, only to receive a growl in response from Fleur before she stomped off towards the exit.

He looked questioningly at his employer and saw him shake his head. "Forgive her."

"It didn't go well then Mr. Henri?" The young man asked.

"No, no it didn't." He replied. "It started to go downhill after they asked her about your 'attack' on the-boy-who-lived."

"But I did it to protect her!" Harry retorted indignantly.

The aging man sighed. "I know Harry… I know."

...

"Master Harry Potter sir, mister Paddyfoot is asking you to come down for breakfast."

The sleeping wizard groggily checked his watch before cursing. "Dobby, its 6 o'clock. Let me sleep in some more."

The little elf wrung his hands as it shook its head "Mister Paddyfoot is insistent you join him for breakfast." Dobby said guiltily.

Harry covered his face with the covers, attempting to go back to sleep, but couldn't as Dobby's presence in his room didn't disappear. He sighed loudly before getting up.

"Fine. Tell the old dog I'll be down soon." He snapped, grumbling and cursing as he walked in the washroom.

Dobby served breakfast as soon as Harry sat down around the kitchen table, but the young wizard, who still had bed hair, seemed contented with just simply sitting there and glaring at his godfather.

Sirius, seemingly oblivious to his godson's annoyance, continued to happily eat his english breakfast while reading the Daily Prophet. He blissfully took a sip of his coffee before complimenting the little house elf.

"Dobby, no one makes coffee like you." The scruffy man said. "It's just perfect."

"Uh thank you mister Paddyfoot." Dobby replied, still not accustomed to receiving compliments.

Sirius just nodded to the elf who was busying himself once again with menial chores before turning to his godson. He quickly feigned surprise when he saw the glare Harry was giving him.

"What?" He asked.

"Don't what me." The messy haired wizard snapped. "What possessed you to ask Dobby to wake me up at this ungodly hour? You knew how tired I was last night after Fleur tried to –"

Sirius quickly put his hand up, cutting off his godson's tirade. "I know, I know. However, the paper was just dropped off and I thought you should see this." He said, before tossing him the day's paper.

Harry read the head line and shook his head as his lips pressed into a thin line.

**The Boy-Who-Lived, Attacked in France**

By: Rita Skeeter

_Ronald Weasley, known as the-boy-who-lived, was viciously assaulted in Paris by an unknown man, 3 days prior. He was reportedly meeting Fleur Delacour, the French Quidditch superstar, in a coffee shop in Paris, when a man attacked him._

"_It was most likely out of jealousy." Weasley said in a private interview in St. Mungo's._

_According to our sources in France, Delacour and Weasley has a budding romantic relation, which was confirmed in a recent press conference the French witch held at the team's practice facility. She also let the attacker's name, Harry, who is said to be one of her associates, slip out during the said press conference._

_This Harry character was described by some eyewitnesses to be around 5'9 in height, had messy black hair, green eyes, wore muggle clothing and was said to be 'Not bad looking'. We speculate that he might have been one of the French seeker's more daring suitors._

"_I was caught off-guard by this man when eyes were solely focused on the woman that I love. He wouldn't have been able to do anything remotely close to what happened in that coffee shop if I was ready." Weasley said on the hospital bed. "Fleur's veela aura might've affected my reflexes as well." The hero added._

_We at the Daily Prophet had been trying to get in contact with the French ministry, but no definitive answers had been given to us. We're asking the French ministry this – How was one of the most important figures in modern history attacked in broad daylight under their watch?_

_(This story is cont'd in page 6)_

_Recap of the private interview in St. Mungo's –page 6_

_Recap of Fleur Delacour's press conference – page 7_

_Rough character sketch of 'Harry' – page 7_

He quickly dropped the paper and was about to get up, but Sirius hit him with a quick sticking charm on his chair.

"Sirius, I need to talk to her. She must be pissed and THIS is my fault."

"Finish your breakfast first." He stated, brooking no arguments.

Harry glared at him and made for his wand, but was quickly disarmed by his godfather, whom had his eyes closed and was sipping his coffee.

"Don't be in such a rush. Dobby went through the trouble of making you breakfast, the least you can do is eat it."

"Mister Paddyfoot, its alrights with Dobby if Master Harry Potter –" The elf tried to appease the aging marauder, but was stopped by a raised hand.

Sirius gave his godson a pointed look and smiled when he saw him sigh.

"Fine." The messy haired, young man grumbled. "Thank you Dobby." He said both gratefully, before he started to eat the big English breakfast as fast as he could.

"No problems Master Harry Potter sir." Dobby replied happily.

As soon as he was done, he quickly made it to the living room, which doubled as their office and took out a silver instrument from his desk.

"Damn it!" He cursed. "She's not on the grid."

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Sirius said as he walked in their office.

"She cancels all my tracking charms on her every night. That's why I've stopped using this thing." He said, pointing at the lifeless silver instrument. As soon as Harry finished explaining, the fireplace turned green.

"Mister Paddyfoot, mister Henri is asking for permissions to come through the floo." Dobby said as he popped into their office.

"Yes Dobby, let him through." Sirius replied and turned towards the fireplace where a middle-aged man walked out wearing only a bathrobe.

"I'm assuming you've read the articles?" Paul Henri asked and received nods. "What are we going to do about this?"

"First of all, I'm going to need to talk to her." Harry said, getting up from his desk. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"She firecalled me this morning and said she's skipping practice to go see her father." The French coach answered, and was surprised when the young man nodded and was about to apparate. "Wait, Harry! You can't just go –"

'_POP'_

"Merde! You do know that everyone's looking for him in France right?" He asked Sirius in alarm, who was watching him with amusement.

"Harry's fine. He can take care of himself." The boy's godfather said flippantly. "Now, do you want breakfast?"

...

It was still very early in the morning when Harry appeared in the middle of Magical Paris, so there were only a few people milling around the alley. He quickly made his way, passed the shop owners who were taking their wares out and opening their stores, towards the Ministere de Magie.

He idly noticed wanted posters with the rough character sketch of himself from the papers, posted all over the alley. The magical poster would start off as full body picture, before zooming in on his face.

'_For a 'rough' character sketch, they've got me pretty accurate.'_ He mused as he stopped to look at a poster of himself. _'They've got my jawline wrong though.'_ He thought critically, before he shook himself out of his musings and remembered his task at hand.

As he was briskly walking, he saw a little kid trip and fall at the foot of the stairs leading to the enormous doors of the French Ministry of Magic. Harry quickly rushed to the little boy's side to help him up, much to the appreciation of the mother who started fussing on the child.

"Merci beacoup Monsieur." She said gratefully, only for her eyes to widen when she took in his appearance. The mother quickly picked up her son before rushing away towards the now slightly busy magical alley.

The young bodyguard just shook his head before straightening up and walking up the stairs and through the Ministry's doors. He was surprised at how busy the foyer was with all the witches and wizards rushing off to the different departments of Ministry.

"Cela n'est pas lui?" Someone who was pointing at him yelled.

"Shit!" The young wizard cursed before running through a large crowd. "I've got to change my appearance." He decided and ducked in one of the public loos.

He came out looking like a stereotypical journalist wearing a beige long coat and a hat. He made himself older and taller with a thick handlebar moustache on his face. He took out a pad and paper and headed towards the elevators that led to the offices of the Minister of Magic.

As soon as he got there, he realized that there's a small entrance you have to pass before you can access the elevators, complete with a magic nullifying field and a couple of guards.

"Those runes on the door will cancel all my glamour charms." He observed. "I'm stuck out here if I can't get passed these guards."

He waited for a large crowd to rush the entrance and tried to slip in with them, but he was stopped by one of the guards.

"Wand s'il vous plait."

Harry, the journalist, smiled at the guard disarmingly. "Actually, I was just wondering if you knew if Fleur Delacour was in the building."

"Jacob!" The other guard yelled. "We're not supposed to talk to the press."

Jacob, the guard took in the man's appearance in front of him and decided that there won't be any harm done by answering.

He leaned in to whisper, "Oui. She's in her father's office.",before straightening up and leaving the journalist writing on his pad.

"Merci." Harry said, before walking away. _'At least I know she's here.'_ He thought.

He leaned against the wall opposite the lobby's entrance, trying to think of a plan to slip passed the guards without doing anything too crazy. Everything he's come up with involved either very time consuming potions, or just blowing up the runic gate, which would result in further antagonizing the French ministry. His thought process was stopped when he heard someone yell.

"Ms. Delacour!"

He saw the subject of his worries run passed the guards, towards the exit of the Ministry foyer, in tears. He quickly followed her, yelling her name to try and stop her.

"Ms. Delacour!" He yelled. "I need to talk to you!"

"No comment!" She retorted, before running even faster.

They were already passed the enormous doors of the ministry when Harry knew he was going to lose her. He quickly fired off a tracking charm on her back, which resulted in her stopping and turning around.

"Fleur." He panted, his glamor gone and his transfigured clothes back to normal. "I need to talk to –"

"Arry!" She screeched, angrily wiping the hot tears that were streaming down her cheeks, before brandishing her wand at the panting young man. "So help me god, if you ever try to put on another tracking charm on me." She yelled, not caring as the people around them have stopped to watch the spectacle.

Harry quickly placed his hand up to acquiesce the distraught girl. "Fleur, I just want to talk."

She wiped the stubborn tears that fell on her cheeks before shaking her head. "Sorry." She said.

"No wait –"

'_POP'_

"Fuck." He cursed as his supposed ward apparated away. He scowled when he saw the French aurors making their way through the crowd that was watching them. "I need a drink." He sighed before he turned on the spot and disappeared.

...

Fleur was sitting on a ledge, looking over the illuminated city of Paris at night, when a snowy white owl landed beside her with an indignant squawk. She read the note that was tied on its leg and frowned.

"I found you?" She whispered, confused and quickly turned around when he heard footsteps behind her.

"Have you been here the whole day?"

Realizing who it was, she sighed, turned back to watching the bright lights of the city and shook her head. "No, but I come here to think. How'd you even know I was here?" She asked her supposed bodyguard, who tightened the scarf around his neck before carefully sitting beside her on the ledge.

"Hedwig here?" He asked as he ruffled the owl's feathers. "Has never failed to find a person I want to send mail to. So, I just tied a note on to her leg and followed her on my broom." He explained and showed her a shrunken broom on his palm. "I have to say though, you chose an interesting spot to think. I mean some people go and lock themselves in their room, the park or the beach or something." He said, putting his shrunken broom in his shirt's breast pocket and looking over at their dangling feet over the ledge they were sitting on. "While you go and sit on top of the Eiffel tower."

Melodious laughter erupted from the quidditch superstar's lips before she leaned back onto her hands. "I love heights. That is probably why I love being on a broom." She said, watching as Hedwig flew off into the night sky. "It just gives me a sense of freedom."

Harry also leaned back onto his hands and turned towards the beautiful part veela beside him. "How so?"

"People are inherently afraid of heights, therefore up here, I'm left alone." She said softly.

"Why do you want to be alone?" He asked. "It's a terrible feeling you know, knowing that you're all alone."

"Ever since I was young, people always had expectations from me. Growing up, I had to deal with my father and his political supporters and enemies, boys who wanted to have sex with me, the girls who hated me, the media, and now the country…" She trailed off, before turning towards the young wizard beside her. "They are all expecting something from me." She whispered. "I'm tired of always trying to meet everybody's expectations."

Harry looked her in the eye and nodded his understanding. "I guess… I understand." He said before smiling. "I mean, I can see how trying it can be, meeting your father's expectations."

She gave him a small smile before turning back towards the city lights again. "He's actually a very loving man, but when mama left us…" She trailed off sadly. "Being the minister of magic is taking its toll on him. It's a very taxing job."

"Probably." Harry quipped. "Running a small protection business is already stressing me. I can't imagine having to run a whole country."

"You're protection business; It's stressful because of me, non?" She asked, smirking.

"No. Well yes, but me, now being a wanted criminal is stressing me out as well." He grumbled out. "I mean I was only doing my job. It was that prick's fault, which is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes, I know. Sorry for running out on you today." She said. "As you've said, papa can be very trying."

"It's okay, I'm getting used to it. I mean all I did all day was look for you while trying to evade your aurors." He said sarcastically, before looking at her seriously. "You're not going to run away again are you?"

She laughed melodiously once again before shaking her head negative. "No, I'm done for the night."

"Good, because I'm exhausted." He said as he laid down on the metal platform they were on.

She also laid down on the metal platform beside him, staring at the starless sky as they slipped into a comfortable silence. He felt her shiver slightly as a strong breeze blew by and he quickly took off his scarf and passed it to her. She took it gratefully and wrapped it around her slender neck.

"What do you say we get you home?" He asked her as he stood up holding his hand out to her. She nodded her head and gently took his offered hand as he helped her to her feet. He then proceeded to wrap an arm around her and pressed their bodies together, before they disappeared with the sound of rushing air and a pop.

Fleur stepped away from the blushing young man as they appeared in front of the Delacour mansion's gates. She then touched the gate, which glowed briefly before opening without a creak. They silently walked the cobbled path which led to the ornate front doors of the house.

"Thanks for not running away when I found you." Harry said, smiling as he scratched the back of his head when they stopped before the steps of the house. "And listen... I know you're independent and that you don't need our protection, but-"

"No, I completely understand. I'm the one who's sorry for being so difficult before. Starting tomorrow, I'll let you do your job without grief." She said apologetically, although the trace of mirth in her tone was evident. "Although, being a wanted criminal might hinder that."

"I'll manage." He said.

She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks." She said. "I'll see what I can do about the charges."

Harry watched her with amusement, as she stepped away, blushing, and swiftly walked up the steps. "Goodnight! I'll see you tomorrow!" He yelled after her, before turning away and walking back towards the gates.

A small smile graced her beautiful face as she watched him walk away, before turning towards the door. She was about to grab the doorknob, when the door suddenly opened, revealing a person.

"Hello Fleur."

She scowled as she leveled the person with a heated glare. "Weasley."

* * *

_A/N: Wait, what? What's he doing in her house? R&R!_


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